Flecks of Gold (42 page)

“You lie,” Kelteon growled. He looked furious.

“I assure you I do not. I suppose you believed Mary to be the king’s daughter because of her eyes, but I am as royal as King Verone, though not from this country’s line. I hope you will understand that it is not in my power to grant you your requests.”

Kelteon stepped out of Sogran’s view and made me step back as well. I posed, a breathing mannequin, while he paced back and forth like an angered lion. Sogran was silent below, waiting. Finally Kelteon’s stalking slowed and stopped, and his languid mask of unconcern was back in place. He stepped confidently back to the wall.

“If it is true that Mary is your daughter and not the king’s, then you will still need to meet my demand of 4000 shem. I also expect you to use your influence with the king to give me back my title and erase my punishment of exile. You and the king are close. Give me those things with the promise of no retribution for my actions here, and I will give you your daughter back.”

“I can’t speak for the king. I will have to confer with him before giving you an answer,” I heard Sogran—my dad—say. The training general was my father. The thought was like an odd tang in my mouth that I couldn’t identify. I heard horse hooves moving away. Kelteon turned to me with an expression of cool calculation.

“This changes things, but have no fear, you will still play an important part in my plan, if not quite as prominent a one as I had envisioned. I’d hoped to make you my queen, but now I suppose I’ll have to marry Zefa Aria to cement my claim, once the king, Breeohan, and Aria’s husband are out of the way. It’s so much messier this way, but far from impossible. You will help.” Kelteon smiled cruelly, and so did I, but inside I cried.

I knew Kelteon would not stick to his word to never demand that I hurt anyone, but in the agony of burning I’d forgotten the consequence of accepting the enchantment.
I should have let my legs fry. I should have dragged myself by my arms and thrown myself over the wall.
I chastised myself mercilessly.

Kelteon turned back to the wall to watch for Sogran’s return. The smile stuck fast to my lips, and my cheeks started to ache. I wondered desperately if controlling two people at once was more complicated than Kelteon had bargained upon. It must be hard to divide his attention between himself, Rafan, and me. If only I could use that against him. I struggled to regain my own body, but found myself ramming into solid walls of resistance.

Without turning, Kelteon said, “I would advise you to cease, Mary. You will only tire yourself. You gave your will to me. You are mine until I release you or you die.”

I retreated to my corner in a hurry, worried that Kelteon might annihilate the little part of me that still remained me. Kelteon decided to leave rather than wait idly at the wall, but my body moved forward to watch for Sogran’s return.

“You need not point the crossbow at Mary until someone is here to see,” Kelteon directed the man who’d fetched us and who’d faithfully kept me targeted through the negotiation performance. “You won’t have to send for me when someone returns either. I will know as soon as Mary does.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the young man gulp as he lowered his crossbow. My hands were still tied behind my back. No one moved to untie the gag at my mouth. I watched the dimming view of the king’s camp. The sun was setting behind the mountains, painting the clouds in oranges and pinks. But I could only view nature’s canvas from my peripheral vision for my eyes were ordered to scan the camp.

I felt acutely embarrassed by my bare legs, but I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful that Kelteon had been interrupted before he could order me to strip and change, or if Kelteon would have given me the illusion of decency and let me change in private.

My legs began to tremble as the sky darkened to a deeper blue. Despite the healing, being shot and burned had worn me down. It appeared that even Kelteon couldn’t demand my body to obey beyond its normal physical limitations. With a whoosh of air and a sickening feeling of free fall, my legs lost the battle and collapsed beneath me. My bottom hit the floor in a painful thud.

My head swerved around to observe the reactions of the guards around me. When they saw me looking, they immediately suppressed all mirth and stood uncertain. Kelteon tried to direct me to instruct the soldiers, who were gaping in confusion, but my mouth was still bound and all that emerged was a muffled garble of sound. I gave a commanding, “umph,” and someone moved forward to untie my gag.

“Kelteon instructs one of you to help me down the stairs to his rooms while the rest of you keep watch for the training general’s return,” I said. I wanted to stay where I was rather than go anywhere near Kelteon’s room, but a guard helped me stand and supported me down the stairs to the room where I’d met Rafan. We moved past the entryway to a bedroom where Kelteon sat reading in a thickly cushioned chair by a large puffy-looking bed. A blue mage light floating above our heads made the bed covers and chair fabric appear tinted so that I couldn’t be sure if they were purple or really red.

“Untie her. There’s no need for disguise at the moment. I doubt Sogran will come back before dawn,” Kelteon instructed. The soldier found it difficult to comply since it was necessary for him to simultaneously support me and loosen the knot at my wrists. Kelteon frowned impatiently, stood and grabbed me by the shoulders roughly while the guard finished removing the ropes. Then they moved me to the bed and dumped me unceremoniously on the sheets. I sank into the mattress.

“Sleep, Mary. I need you fully recovered for tomorrow’s activities,” Kelteon said ominously before my eyes shut unwillingly. There was nothing to do but sleep.

I woke suddenly to a windowless darkness, but I quickly realized that my waking wasn’t a natural reaction to a full night’s sleep since it was still dark. I made a globe of golden light above me and saw clothes draped on the back of the chair, and my body automatically put them on. The apparel was sufficiently scruffy-looking to accommodate the farce that I was a free-willed prisoner kept in less-than-desirable circumstances.

I stepped out the bedroom door and saw Kelteon and Rafan sitting cross-legged at a small circular table piled with breads, dried fruits, and the usual unidentifiable foods I’d learned to expect in Iberloah. I dropped to the empty space between the two men and began to eat without a word spoken between us. A few of the foods Kelteon made me jam in my mouth almost came back out again as my gag reflex kicked into gear. But Kelteon just had me clap a hand over my lips until the feeling passed.

He made me keep eating until I was sure I would throw up from being stuffed beyond capacity. Then Kelteon and I stood as one and climbed the wall to await a response to his demands. My hands moved behind my back, and Kelteon tied me once more and bound my mouth with rough cloth.

“Let’s start the show. You there,” he pointed to one of the guards keeping watch. “You keep your bow trained on my precious bargaining tool here until I can send her back to the dogs below,” Kelteon instructed. Despite the pretense, Kelteon let me watch at the wall as we waited for movement from the king’s camp.

The sun was just rising behind us, casting a long shadow from the wall onto the ground below. Metal glittered from the soldiers encampment, far out of the shadow of Kerln’s imposing barrier. The reflections bounced around in a flurry of activity, and I surmised that we wouldn’t have to wait long for Sogran’s return.

As expected, a small group of armed men soon detached itself from the camp and came galloping toward the wall with the training general in the lead. He still carried the feathered staff at his side but seemed otherwise unarmed. When the group of soldiers reached the area just out of shooting range, Sogran signaled them to stop while he rode ahead. He came to a halt under the wall’s shadowy embrace.

“Well, what do you have for me, Sogran?” Kelteon said with an insulting lilt.

“I have all that you asked for: the money, the writ made by the king to reinstate your title and cancel your exile, and the promise that the king will not seek retribution for your atrocities here, so long as you relinquish your hold on this city and agree to live always at court.” Sogran’s words were clipped and unhappy as he looked up into the mask of exhausted hope that covered my face.

“I did not agree to have conditions to my demands,” Kelteon said carefully, but I almost imagined that he looked pleased.

“That is all I could do. Please take it and give me my daughter back,” Sogran said, his face showing true fatigue.

“Very well, I agree. I believe you are an honorable man, but I wish to inspect the writs and money before I return Mary.”

“You may inspect the papers, but I will not give you the money until Mary is safely with me,” was Sogran’s reply.

“As you wish.” Kelteon signaled a guard to lower a rope with a basket attached. “Send the papers up.”

Sogran skillfully maneuvered his horse to set the documents within the basket and then side-stepped his stallion to watch the rope slide back up the sandstone edifice. Kelteon looked the papers over carefully before seeming to reluctantly accept their veracity. I had to give him credit for his acting skills.

“Everything seems in order. I’ll have Mary brought out immediately, and I will give back your city as soon as I have my affairs in order. I must disperse my people before coming back to the palace,” Kelteon called down solicitously. He turned to his soldiers and spoke more quietly. “You eight take Mary down and surround her with your bows. Make sure the money is real before you hand her over to the training general.”

I walked with the guards to the gate and stood, while those not assigned to me opened one side of the massive doors wide enough to let us out. Kelteon made me walk with a tired drag as I approached Sogran. The soldiers who accompanied him now approached with a chest the size of a large pig. It looked to be as heavy as an adult swine too.

“We must look at the money first,” the guard next to me said. Sogran gestured for the two men who held each end of the chest to move forward, and the guard who’d spoken opened the lid to look inside. He nodded, and another of my guards stopped aiming at me to help take the chest from the mounted soldiers. I was pushed forward as Kelteon’s men retreated quickly back to the gate. The door clanged shut behind them.

Sogran dropped the staff as if it were trash, dismounted from his horse with the speed of lightning, and caught me in a hug before I had stumbled more than two steps. I was oddly surprised, not having taken Sogran for the hugging type, even if he was my dad.

“Are you hurt? Quickly, get on my horse,” he said in a jumble too fast to answer before he tossed me onto the saddle in an effort to move away from Kerln’s snipers. Before we rode off, however, Sogran yelled up to Kelteon who still gazed down from above. “You have three days to surrender this city, disperse your men, and join the king’s entourage back to the palace or your writs will be void.” Then Sogran spurred his horse away from the walls in a mad gallop, surrounded by his armed soldiers.

I clung to Sogran with far more skill than I really possessed. If it weren’t for Kelteon’s horse smarts, I probably would have been bucked to the dirt. That didn’t make me grateful to him, however.

We thundered into the king’s camp through a sudden gap in Sogran’s guards, which closed up again behind us. Not until we were all well within the camp did the training general pull up sharply on his horse’s reigns. Despite Kelteon’s expertise, the abrupt halt nearly threw my body to the ground. I felt a moment’s regret that I hadn’t fallen and broken my neck. I’d never before been a depressed sort or even remotely inclined to suicidal thoughts, but I’d never before been an unwilling assassin either.

Sogran dismounted and pulled me gently down after him. He gave me an awkward hug before stepping away, his eyes scanning the camp with an efficient gaze. But I thought his eyes avoided mine for a different reason than efficiency.

“I have to tell the king what’s happened. Kirana, Shok, show Mary to her tent and make sure she is well protected. I’ll not have her taken from us again,” he directed two of his soldiers. My body stiffened as if in anger for a second before relaxing, and I felt a surge of private satisfaction. It would be much harder for Kelteon to make me do anything harmful if I was under a constant watch. Sogran turned back to me and finally met my eyes with a softened gleam in his brown-gold ones.

“We don’t have the water for a bath right now, but you can at least scrub a bit of the dirt off with a cloth and a bucket of water. I’ll get you clean clothes to change into.”

I wondered with a stab of wild hope if Sogran knew about my cleaning lacing. Was he trying to find out subtly if the Mary in front of him was really me? My precarious happiness was dashed, however, when Kelteon had me reply, “Thanks. I don’t think I have the energy to clean myself with a lacing yet.”

I’d forgotten that Rafan—and therefore, Kelteon—had seen me use my cleaning lacing after fishing me out of the water onto his boat. My trapped self quaked with dread. My best chance was for Kelteon to mess up somehow, to do or say something that I would never do or say. But he’d been spying on me for a long time. It’d be easy for him to fake my personality.